


A Wish Well Granted

by Shanachii



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, M/M, celtic mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shanachii/pseuds/Shanachii
Summary: If Yuuri did not appease the stag quickly then he would be the next cautionary tale old women told restless children in the middle of the night.“What can I do to make us even?” Yuuri asked. Balance, it was what all fae desired in some form or another. They were not endlessly cruel or unerringly virtuous. They simply were. If Yuuri could bring justice to the beast he’d trapped things would be fine, no divine punishment needed.The stag blinked, bringing his head down, nose pressing to Yuuri’s own. He held his breath, repressed the urge to close his eyes. Without warning the creature rose once more, stepped back and danced away into the night.





	A Wish Well Granted

It was spring. The first sign the earth brought forward was the chirping of birds. Yuuri’s mother had told him once - when he was small and prone to believing her tales - that they hid beneath the ground where it was warm during the winter. She said they had a buried kingdom there, one that rivalled even the land of faeries and gods. He still remembered her tale whenever spring came back to the forest. He would look up into the foliage of the wood and recite the story word-for-word as he walked to the spring, only his hound to hear him. 

This was one such day. Yuuri traversed the thicket of the forest, the place where no respectable Clann party would hunt. They had routes planned and had trodden down the terrain to ease their movements. Yuuri had only used those same paths a handful of times before he decided that an shortened travel time was not worth competing with the nearby Clann for game. 

His hound seemed to like the challenge of leaping about the rough though. She was a peculiar sort: tall, slim, curly-haired creature with a love of water. Yuuri didn’t know the name for these dogs; he’d only asked for her personal name. The merchant who’d traded her for venison - a Saxon with a winning smile - had only said she answered to Makkachin before heading off. An odd name for an odd hound. Yuuri loved the beast anyways.

Yuuri and his Makkachin reached the middy slope that fed into the crevice where the fresh spring lay. Yuuri dug his heels in, controlling his slide down and Makka tumbled joyfully ahead of him, her tongue lolling from her mouth - she was a real prancer, that one. When they reached the bottom, Yuuri’s feet hitting the rocks by the stream’s side, he knelt. 

Sure and measured, Yuuri swung his sack from his back, untied the leather binding and brought out his rope and wooden picks. He measured two lengths of his forearm and cut the rope at the that length three times over. He looped each piece of rope, tying them off in a noose loop knot. He tested one on his finger, making sure it tightened properly before loosening it once more and tying each loose end to a wood pick. If anything were to step in these while getting a drink of water he’d have a sure catch. 

Yuuri went about setting his traps in three suitable spots along the river before whistling to Makkachin and climbing carefully back up the mud slope. It could take anywhere from hours to days for any single trap to prove fruitful. He’d have to be patient as always. Resolving to check after a run to forage for berries, Yuuri trode on and prayed to any god that would listen for a successful hunt.

* * *

Yuuri did as he promised himself he would, returning to the spring to check his traps. It was twilight in the forest, just dark enough to see the spring heat beckoning a mist up from the spring. Yuuri waded through the mist to his first trap.

A hare flailed in the trap, hind leg stuck in Yuuri’s knot. The ankle about their foot was bloody from their struggle; they’d been there a long while. 

“Poor thing,” Yuuri whispered to no one, snapping his fingers and telling Makkachin to sit back while he handled the prey. Quickly, as to not prolong the torment, Yuuri twisted the animals neck. A quick death, his parents had taught him. Better than bleeding out, that is. “Sorry, little friend.”

Yuuri carried the hare by the rope around its leg as he walked to the next trap. Makka followed closely after him, licking her chops at the sight of fresh meat. 

“You’ll get your share, promise,” Yuuri said as he passed the second empty trap. “If number three’s a winner I’ll even give you extra.”

When the pair came to the place where the third trap was set Makkachin froze. The dog sampled the air, her mass of black nose catching a whiff of something interesting. 

Yuuri smiled. “We got something?” Makkachin kept sniffing, he face pointed in the direction of the trap across the misty stream. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Yuuri stepped into the water, wading in until he reach the knee height depths. He squinted through mist, watching for the movements of whatever he caught. Movement he found, but it was not so small as he expected. Lying on the bed of the stream, calm and steady was a massive stag. Yuuri had never seen one so large. His antlers spread to a width greater than the sapling behind Yuuri’s cottage. His broad shoulders spoke of strength unmatched and the long front legs on which it’s head rested spoke of height unreached by others of his kind. The beast was beautiful and mighty.

Yuuri gulped. He didn’t suppose he’d get close enough to kill it quickly and painlessly on his own. Nor did he expect he could break the length of his thick neck. 

“Makkachin,” he called to the dog. It would be shame, considering how brutal death by hound could be, but Yuuri couldn’t go toe-to-toe with the animal. He hadn’t the skill. 

At the sound of the dog’s name the stag lifted his head from the resting position, eyes scanning through fog until his eyes landed on Yuuri. Their eyes met. Yuuri stared. He knew it was unwise, that male beasts of this sort interpreted such action as a threat, but he couldn't help himself. The stag’s eyes were just so blue. He’d never seen anything like it, or even heard of it. 

“Makkachin,” Yuuri called again, rasping desperately in his place to come before the stag inevitably decided to confront him. 

This time Yuuri heard her leap through the water, jumping frantically through. She passed Yuuri in a mass of wet fur and reached the stag and-

Nothing. Makkachin did nothing. She stood nose to nose with the stag, sniffing at him, whimpering at him. The stag did not attack or react. It simply allowed Makkachin to sniff and stand before it, tail wagging, ears perked. 

That’s when it struck Yuuri: blue eyes, unnatural size, calm demeanor, his hunting dog not daring to touch it. This creature was fae. 

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri stumbled forward, scraping his wait to shore. He postured, resting his head on the stony stream bed and not bothering to bring his legs to dry land. The stag stood, stepping back to tiniest bit and lowering his head. Yuuri could feel a wet nose at the back of his neck as his lungs heaved. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Moments passed - moments that stretched longer than most seasons did - and the wet nose left his neck. Yuuri looked up to see the fae standing tall above him. Yuuri blinked, before gasping and tripping over himself to kneel by the stags hind leg. He brought out his knife and sawed furiously at the rope, freeing the fae stag from his trap. Still it stood.

“Please,” Yuuri threw the hare at the feet of the stag, kneeling as the creature blue eyes looked down at him. “Take this. The meat is good and the fur is soft.”

Still the fae did not move.

Yuuri had heard many stories like this one. Fae, fair folk, faeries, whatever you wished to call them, were not animals of reason. They were strength and passion. They protected and loved as fiercely as they punished and hated. Doing harm to one, even mildly inconveniencing one, could bring a wrath upon your head like no other. Fae were worth a mortal’s respect; fae were worth a mortal’s fear. If Yuuri did not appease the stag quickly then he would be the next cautionary tale old women told restless children in the middle of the night.

“What can I do to make us even?” Yuuri asked. Balance, it was what all fae desired in some form or another. They were not endlessly cruel or unerringly virtuous. They simply were. If Yuuri could bring justice to the beast he’d trapped things would be fine, no divine punishment needed. 

The stag blinked, bringing his head down, nose pressing to Yuuri’s own. He held his breath, repressed the urge to close his eyes. Without warning the creature rose once more, stepped back and danced away into the night.

* * *

Yuuri had not seen the last of the faerie stag. It came to his lodgings the next morning. Yuuri had woken to tend to the garden when he saw him. The faerie stag stood tall, the hare Yuuri had left by the stream hung over the stags antler and fell to the ground with the tip of his head. Yuuri decided to go back inside; such a clear rejection of his gift was surely a bad sign.

On the second day the stag came again. This time, clutched between his teeth was a thin fallen branch from an apple tree. Yuuri watched from his window when the stage placed the branch at his threshold and ran back into the woods. Yuuri had opened the door that day to bring the branch inside. Apple, it was usually a symbol for fertility and love - a blessing, not a curse. Yuuri slept soundly with the branch hanging from the backboard of his bed that night.

The third day came and Yuuri feared the creature less. His dreams had been sweet ones after hanging the apple tree branch. Perhaps it meant him no harm since he’d had the decency to apologize. He waited at the window the whole day long to see if the stag would come again or was satisfied with the peace they’d made. The stag never appeared at the edge of the forest, nor did it approach. 

Yuuri thanked his stars. It seemed the fae would not be cursing him today. 

* * *

Something warm and inviting curled around Yuuri, soft and smooth. Yuuri pressed into it, his hands traveling up, running along the planes of the something and holding right to it. It had been so long since he’d felt like this, a comfortable weight next to him in bed and an unashamed embrace folded around him. Yuuri pressed his face into whatever it was he held, eyes fluttering open at a familiar smell of apple and morning dew. 

Yuuri froze.

That something soft and warm, that weight it his side, that fresh sweet scent, was that of a naked stranger sleeping in his bed. Yuuri tried to organize his options over the rush of terrified noise buzzing in his head. He could yell and scream and kick, hope to overpower the intruder. He could sneak from the bed, retrieve his knife and threaten the stranger with death lest he leave. Yuuri was about to take his second option when he felt a bundle of fur preventing him from rising. 

Makkachin had blanketed herself over the sleeping man and Yuuri both. 

But why, Yuuri asked himself. When bandits had attempted to use the cabin before Makka had nearly ripped them to shreds. She hated strangers, especially the ones who stepped over the bounds of her territory. Unless…

Carefully, Yuuri shifted to look at the man. He was pale with a clear complexion that looked like it had never been hit by sun. His hair was long and, Yuuri realized as held a strand between his fingers, silky. It was silver with a radiant sheen about it. Young, handsome, pale and otherwise otherworldly. There was only one last thing to confirm. 

Yuuri rested his hand on the man’s shoulder, letting his thumb stroke soothing circles on the skin. Slowly, like the blooming of a morning flower, the man opened his eyes - his big, blue eyes.

It was him: the faerie stag.

“Good morning,” cooed the creature, cuddling into Yuuri’s chest with a satisfied sigh. He smiled, hands travelling over the curve of Yuuri’s waist. “It so nice to wake up with you here, Yuuri. Much nicer than waking up alone, at the very least.”

“How do you know my name?” Yuuri asked, not daring to move as the faerie man laughed contentedly beside him. 

“Makkachin told me,” the fae answered. Yuuri let out a breath of relief as the man rolled over and kicked his legs off the bed. He stood, walking around Yuuri’s cabin as though simultaneously inspecting and awaiting inspection. “She asked me to forgive you for trapping me and said you were sad and alone out here.”

Yuuri looked over at his dog, still sleeping soundly on top of him, tail wagging. What a traitorous bitch.

“Well, as you can see I’m doing just fine here,” Yuuri said, tearing his legs out from beneath Makkachin and walked towards the door. Swiftly and without hesitation he opened it, hoping his false smile was amicable enough for the faerie to not be offended. “Thank you for your concern but I would prefer you leave my home.”

“Would you?” The faerie asked, turning to Yuuri and smirking. “Or would you like what’s due to you?”

“Due to me?”

“Yes,” the faerie man crossed the room and sat once more on Yuuri’s bed. “It’s your lucky day! You get one free wish. Whatever your heart desires.”

Whatever his heart desired? Yuuri balked. There were so many things he needed: food, water, fur, firewood. He’d never thought about what he wanted though. Other men seemed enamoured with the confines of power, happier with gold filling their pockets, saner with land to claim and roam. He supposed those would be the typical things to want, to wish for. But Yuuri, he was unsure. 

“What’s your name, faerie?” Yuuri asked, straightening his back and closing the door. 

“Victor,” the man answered, tucking some of his long hair behind his ear.

“Well, Victor, the truth is I’m not sure what I want to wish for,” Yuuri said, stepping forward, watching the faerie’s grin widen at the words. “I need time to think it over and make the perfect wish. Would three days be too long for you to wait?”

“Not at all,” Victor the faerie stood, his long fingers twitching with expectation. “Three days, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nodded, shaking the faerie’s hand. “Three days.”

 


End file.
